by RA Chandler
“So he just appeared in your bed having been shot by your gun?”
“Hoping you believed me was a long shot, we should just call the police. If you left now you could avoid the commotion.”
“A lack of GSR on your hands would prove you didn’t shoot him.”
“GSR What?”
“Residue left behind after a gun is fired.”
“I could have worn gloves.”
“It would be on your clothes.”
“I could have changed.”
“Don’t you have any faith in the justice system?”
“McKinley would pull string and punish me for the death; this man was going to make him a lot of money.”
“I don’t think we need to call the cops yet. Tell me the sequence of events that led up to you finding the body.”
“Well three times a week I sing at an internet radio station that has a live video feed. I do an hour set with a live band and have a small following on Facebook and Twitter. Anyway, this was one of my nights there. Olivia and I arrived home about ten-thirty and I remembered that I wanted to try the honey rum so I sent her out to get some. The liquor store I usually get booze from is only a few blocks away, I can’t put my finger on why but when I came in the place smelt weird like a bunch of work men had come through. So I opened a few windows and went to my bedroom where I saw him and the gun. I had a little look at the gun once I’d got over the initial fright and realized it was mine. Then I knew I was fucked. I don’t have a clue what to do. Even if the police clear my name I can’t see any major labels wanting to associate themselves with me.”
“How’d he get in?” I demanded all business. I’d finally gotten over the earlier events.
“No idea.”
“Try and think.”
“Well I locked the door, threw off my clothes on the floor with him on the bed and went and had a shower. I need to collect my thoughts. Then I locked the door and went down stairs, Olivia was back by then. So I had a drink for my nerves. Olivia was working in my office so she didn’t realize I was up.”
I waited.
“Honestly that’s it, I have nothing else.”
“Olivia might be hired help but she might be more inquisitive than you think?”
“How long after you moved here did you get Olivia?”
“Same time, she gave me the keys.”
“So she could have had duplicates made?”
She shrugged.
I went to the windows and checked the latches, “was Marley One in love with you?”
“He doesn’t, didn’t, know the meaning of the world love,” she snapped at me. “To love a woman he would have to respect one first. He used to hire porn stars when he was really bored and take Viagra, even filmed that shit and showed his friends. But he didn’t hire the big names, more industry newbies who didn’t really know the lay of the land but had agents who didn’t care who they whored them out to. He screwed up a few girls that way; I hear he called it his own screen test. A couple of years back when I was a backing singer a few small press journalists tried to make something of the fact that we had a couple of meals together. And recently I saw my picture in a few sites saying he was dating me an up and coming starlet.”
“Isn’t that part of the pretense?” I asked.
“It’s bullshit, everyone has a limit. I was telling him at lunch to stop the shit from circulating. Being associated with a man whose life personal life has that level of sickness in it would only infect my profile in negative ways. The man smelt bad, everybody in the business knew about him and we’re talking about a business which is hardly full of pure individuals.”
“Okay, well get yourself a drink whilst I try and figure this thing out a little.”
She stood up and looked at me directly, “I didn’t shoot him. I don’t know how he got into my home tonight. I didn’t even know he was coming and he didn’t have a reason to. It’s up to you if you want to believe me or not. Something about this whole thing is wrong. Marley wouldn’t kill himself.”
“He didn’t kill himself, if he had he would have shot himself in the head, now get that drink.”
She left the room and I pondered the situation. I was willing to put money down that if she was telling the truth, and wasn’t totally convinced about that, someone knew McKinley would get the killing covered up. Which made me think about the note ‘FROM HER BROTHER’. What if he hadn’t paid the money and they wanted to kill him anyway, had the mystery woman’s brother followed him here and done the deed? Maybe they were familiar with McKinley’s operations and knew he would rather pay off cops to keep his name and associates out of the press and courts.
Without Lucy’s soft hands and good looks distracting me the room was silent and lonely. I took out some disposable plastic gloves and a cloth from inside pocket, prized the gun out of Marley One’s hand and wiped it down. Then I took out the magazine and wiped that off too. Then I took out each round and wiped those down. Finally I ejected the one in the breech and wiped that off. Then I did what I hated corrupt cops and some of my old corrupt D.A investigator colleagues for. I placed the reloaded gun back in the dead man’s hand, closed his fingers around the grip and placed his index finger on the trigger, then let his hand drop naturally onto the bed before I turned the safety off.
I even took the time to find the fired round that I then cleaned off and returned to where I had found it. I don’t know why but I checked the closet.
There was a nice mulberry colored gilet hung up on a hook over a hoodie and men’s jeans. On the shoe rack underneath were a pair of what looked like size ten Nike Airforce Ones. On a shelf were some shorts with a monogram on them.
I felt through his jeans pockets delicately, the last thing I wanted was to get stabbed by some kind of pocket knife. I pulled out a money clip with about six thousand dollars in a T-60 money clip, keys to the Lamborghini, a key with a room number on it, Marley One legend above that, and a single key. The single key didn’t have a key ring attached and looked brand new and unscuffed.
I went downstairs and let myself out through the front door which I then shut, the door was open again a second later with the shiny single key. I shut it again and went down to the Lamborghini.
As tempted as I was to drive the jet black supercar I resisted the temptation, fingerprints in a dead man’s ride weren’t going to be a good look if this shit went sideways. I searched the car but it didn’t tell me much, but I found his cell phone, a couple of joints and the cars lease agreement. The cell in my pocket I let myself back into the house for a talk with the tenant.
She was in the living room smoking in between sips of something that wasn’t Spanish honey rum. It looked more like straight vodka. I need to talk with her before she disappeared into a drunken stupor at which point she’d be of no use to anyone.
I sat on the arm of the couch. “Olivia with you all the time? Modeling shoots, radio show, live performances?”
She nodded, “yeah she’s at most things. She knows more about my schedule than I do. He had a key didn’t he, I heard you go outside and let yourself back in again.”
“You said Olivia was with you when you moved into this place. How long ago was that?”
“Well the project started about a year ago, so maybe nine months. Sometimes we entertain people here; make contacts.”
“Anything ever go missing?”
She shrugged, “I wouldn’t like to make allegations but I once saw an invoice for my clothing and there were items on it I hadn’t received. Nothing big, just a dress here and there or some shoes. She’s not paid that much and she’s got an MBA so I think it was just a perk of trade.”
“You think it’s fair?” I asked.
“I work funky hours, sometimes late, sometimes last minute traveling for someone who wants a backing singer with a pretty face or perhaps a girl in a video that can do more than shake her ass. She’s had to crash on my couch more times than you would think, so what if she takes a little off the top. For god
’s sake I mean I was born tall and with the right kind of face, my face and figure are my qualifications. How would you like to work for someone you knew wasn’t as smart as you?”
“Okay, can you tell me anything about her? She licks crack rocks, smoke weed or drink too much?”
“I don’t think so, she was pretty straight laced. Why does that matter anyway?”
“It matters because she hocked your keys to someone. To me that much is obvious. You didn’t give him a key, the landlord whoever that is didn’t give him a key, which leave Olivia as the only other person with a key. It’s a simple deduction.”
She sat still for a little while then started to shake her head, my mind started to wonder what she looked like naked.
“This is stupid,” she said pulling me out of my little daydream. “We have to tell the police what happened; no one can get me out of this. They’ll think it was a lovers quarrel and that I shot him, he’s got previous for beating up past girlfriends. Even if I get off it’ll be a suicide in Seagate, it’s time to face up to things. And I can’t pay you anyhow.”
“Well before you go all Dallas on me how ‘bout you just pause a minute.”
She took a deep breath and exhaled.
“We’ll both go to McKinley and explain things. I’ll explain my findings. He’ll speed dial cops on his payroll, maybe some journalists too. The boy’s high profile so I’m guessing they’ll find his body in his car somewhere remote and plant some narcotics on him.”
“That’s awful, I still can’t pay.”
“It’s your lucky day; Marley One has paid me six large to find the people that killed him.”
“Why are you so sure he didn’t take his own life?” she said with a curious almost playful smile.
“The boy was obsessed with monograming everything with his initials and his shorts in the closet have the wrong monogram. Last night when I was helping him pack his stuff I noted the obsession with his monogram. Now do me a favor.”
“Sure what?”
My first thought was disgusting and involved a delicate part of me and her mouth.
“Put some less tempting clothes on and get Olivia’s home address.”
“I don’t have it.”
“Can you get it?”
“I don’t …”
“Call the agency she works for; tell them you want to send her flowers because she’s been doing such an exemplary job. They should pony it up if you lay it on thick enough. Then call me and I’ll make a visit.”
She nodded
“Right, can you isolate the air-conditioning in this place.
She nodded, “it can get to minus five degree, I have no idea who needs air-conditioning that cold.”
“Good, turn the one in your room to the coldest setting to stop him going off.”
“Thank you for this,” she said. “Do you still want cowgirl?”
She smiled at me and pulled her wifebeater vest off to reveal her nicely sized breasts in a pink jeweled bra. Then she started undo the drawstring on her sweats.
I took my six grand and left before I got myself into a situation I couldn’t control anymore.
6
I was at my apartment and ready to work. People shouldn’t obsess about money but I’d learnt a long time ago that sentiment only had a place if you thought you were exploiting people. I thought that McKinley would pay me for getting his protégé off this rap and he’d pay me for the service. It was a risky strategy, but I’d already lost my job and didn’t care so much for consequences.
My buzzer sounded.
“Yeah,” I said on the intercom.
“It’s Nayna,” a sweet voice said back.
Nayna had been a mistake. Not because the sex wasn’t good, not because she wasn’t fun or smart, but because I’d given her my home address. She was under the misguided idea that she was my girlfriend. I’d given her the health warning when I met her with friends at a bar in Manhattan. I’d made it clear that I didn’t really date, just had meetings that sometimes result in sex and on other occasions started with the cinema. She said she got it; six months late she said she wanted a key.
I did the not available thing, stayed out late, but I couldn’t shake her and every now and again I’d wake up next to her thinking the wild sex had been a dream. That nonsense was okay when I had a job that meant working through the night and I sat at home reading Harlem renaissance literature, watching CSI and designing my new house. Now in this moment I didn’t want to have to think about anyone else, I just wanted to solve the puzzle or prove a theorem. Sex was like food, love was not and I didn’t want to hurt her so I knew I’d have to end it.
I buzzed her up.
By the time she reached my front door I had a huge erection that was about to burst out of my pants. I opened the door and she stood right in front of me tickled pink, looking down at my boner.
“It’s good to see you,” she said. “And you.”
She pushed me back into the apartment towards my bedroom, kicking the door closed behind her. I fell back onto my bed and she stood in front of me. She was wearing Ugg boot and thick woolen coat.
Then she wasn’t.
She had a face and body like Olivia, not the sweet little thing who assisted and betrayed Lucy Pearl but that girl that used to sing hooks for G-Unit.
She stood before me in a red lace set gazing into my eyes, giving me a playful, wicked grin, she glanced briefly at the suit I was going to put on after my shower, then back down at the bulge in my sweats.
“You know you shouldn’t treat a girl like me the way you do.”
“You’re right…”
“Ssh”
She roughly pulled my sweats down to my knees, straddled my thighs and put one hand on my shoulder. Her free hand was on my thigh with finger tips carelessly caressing the top of my cock.
“Why don’t you return my calls?”
“Because I’m a bad boyfriend and you deserve be…”
Her finger nails pinched the top of my erection and I gasped softly as a shock went shooting through my body right into my hard dick.
She started to pump her hand, “do you like that?”
I nodded; I didn’t like fighting women if I could avoid it.
She was making act stupid and she knew it. She ran the tip of her tongue over her full lips to wet them. The only thing in my head now was those moist lips on my sugar stick and whether the lips inside those lace boy shorts were just as damp.
She straddled me like a cowgirl, her lady garden hovering above me with only a thread of fabric stopping me from slamming into her. Her wet full lips were just a fraction of an inch away from mine; she exhaled blowing her warm breath into my mouth. Her breath was so minty fresh that I could almost taste it, I wanted to taste it.
My heart was hammering in my chest, blood surged through my like a lightning rod connected to my hard throbbing member. I was so hard now that I was beginning to ooze pre-cum.
She moved her head, motioning me towards her. I closed my eyes, opened my mouth slightly, put my hand on the back of her neck brought her mouth towards mine. I could feel the warmth of her soft flesh pressing against my crotch as she did so.... while I waited for her lips to touch mine.
As we kissed she grinded on me and I had to grab her butt to slow her down. Her breath was minty but her tongue was salty.
Like a pro I took hold of the clasp at the back of her bra with one hand the clasp and opened it allowing her perfect firm breasts to fall free.
I brushed my other hand up over her rib cage until my hand was under her loosely hanging bra. I massaged her breasts at first with one hand then two; lift the bra to expose them totally.
She gripped my virility tighter and stroked it
“How does it feel?"
“Like you’re about to get it.”
Then she started sucking my ear.
That was the limit of myself control
I lifted her by the butt with one hand and knocked away her hand with the other.
Holding her like that I used my free hand to pull her boy shorts down to knees to restrict her movements and started to ease myself into her moist opening.
She slapped. It wasn’t hard and she gave me a playfully teasing grin.
She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at me, “slow your roll cowboy, condom or no party in the pants.”
She slapped me playfully again and pointed a perfectly manicured finger at me. “I will slap seven shades of shit out of you. Condom!”
I smiled and pulled a Trojan out of my draw, as I undid the packet and set myself up for action she rolled off me. She kicked of her panties, threw her bra after it, lay on my pillows and prepared herself. She liked breathing exercises.
I looked at her beautiful body, as I got naked, and admired her willful desire to have me and I was a fool not to want her. I wasn’t sure I didn’t anymore.
Lucy Pearl could go to hell.
Then the phone rang.
7
Nayna and I were officially not a couple anymore because of the phone call and my lack of forward planning.
My cell phone connected to my landline automatically and that went loud speaker if I didn’t answer it immediately. Well the phone call was from Lucy who gave an address for Olivia and made a few obscene comments about riding me cowgirl.
Nayna didn’t find it funny or my excuse that she was the victim of murder suicide setup probable. I should have just told her straight I wasn’t interested and she would have understood. So she left my apartment and me to ponder what could have been.
I was a little tense now.
Olivia’s place in Murray Hill wasn’t particularly big in keeping with the other residences on the block. It was a prewar with a little front porch and a small drive. The idea was to smoke her out and either get her alone or find the man she sold the key to.
I jumped the steps, rapped my knuckles on the light front door and stopped back down the steps. Regardless of the politics and truth, a big black man at the front door still intimidated most and I didn’t look like a Jehovah’s Witness.
Someone behind the door shouted for me to hold on a minute. When the door opened it was an elderly woman who stood before me in white pants and a floral shirt. She had a plentiful amount of white hair and large glasses. Her eyes looked to the left a right of me quickly before she settled on my smile and noted that I was at the bottom of her steps; she’d even have enough time to close the door.